


Woke Up In Japan

by MVforVictory



Category: iKON (Korea Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dissociation, Friends With Benefits, I'm useless lol, JunBin are actual babies, JunBin smut turns into battle of the praise kinks when I write it tbh, M/M, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Songfic, Sort Of, Touch-Starved, Unrequited Love, a lot of unnecessary swearing in narration, although I think I mention switching at some point?? I don’t remember lol, bottom hanbin, hanbin-centric, sorry - Freeform, this is literally so lame and mushy im sorry, this wasn't meant to be so long but, top junhoe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-01-26 08:43:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21371341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MVforVictory/pseuds/MVforVictory
Summary: “I want you to ruin me,” Hanbin panted against the corner of Junhoe’s lips “If we’re going to—to do this, I want to feel it tomorrow. And the next day. I want that to be the only thing I can focus on when we’re flying back.”_____________Junhoe had always been the person to do just enough and never more. Hanbin was always the overachiever, the one to hit it and hit it until it breaks.Until he breaks.Hanbin laid his cards out, confident in whatever hand he was dealt, while Junhoe played his cards close to his chest.Hanbin gave in spades. Gave until he was left empty-handed and empty-hearted, but maybe Junhoe could let him take for once.
Relationships: Goo Junhoe/Kim Hanbin | B.I, Kim Jiwon | Bobby/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 28
Kudos: 174





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hi hate me all you want for starting a bunch of works and never finishing them
> 
> Song that inspired this was Woke Up In Japan by 5SOS

Kim Hanbin was not the type to dwell on a problem.

Well, that’s false.

Kim Hanbin was not the type to let people know he was dwelling on a problem.

Especially not a problem like this.

He watched as Bobby smiled down at his phone, Hanbin really tried not to look but he couldn’t help catching a glimpse of the abundance of heart emojis being sent between Bobby and his new girlfriend.

It—

It _ hurt. _

Ever since the shift in their friendship, the shift that Hanbin had caused, they’ve grown apart.

Bobby hadn’t even told him about his girlfriend—No, Hanbin had to walk in on them in the middle of them fucking.

It had been incredibly awkward. Bobby rushed to cover the squealing girl while also trying to tuck himself back into his sweats.

Hanbin backed out with barely anything more than a stuttered apology, but the older rapper chased after him with a hand around his wrist to stop him.

The hand that was probably _ in _that girl literal seconds before…

Oh, _ god. _

“Wait! Let me explain,” Bobby practically begged him, “It’s not—”

“Bobby,” Hanbin was quick to cut him off, “It’s fine. Just wish I didn’t have to walk in on that,” he gave an awkward laugh as he tried to free his arm.

Bobby seemed to realize where his hand was, dropping the leader’s wrist immediately, “You mean—You’re not mad?”

Hanbin stilled.

“Why would I be mad?”

“I was worried you’d be pissed about me being so distracted, and knowing the reason why,” Bobby shrugged, “I just didn’t want to stress you out more.”

Of course, Hanbin had noticed how floaty Bobby’s head seemed to be recently, he noticed everything. He just didn’t think Bobby wanted to talk to him about it.

He would’ve gone to Hanbin if he did.

“Who—Who else knows?” Hanbin questioned. He dropped his gaze to the floor, completely missing the way Bobby’s eyes closed off slightly.

“Uh—The rest of the guys?”

Hanbin nodded, swallowing the hurt. “Anyone else?” He asked.

“Mino and Jaeho-hyung know, too.”

Hanbin found himself nodding again, trying not to think about the way his chest ached just from the thought of Bobby telling everyone _ except _ for him.

It wasn’t even about his feelings for the other—Not yet, that would come later—but it was the way Bobby just…didn’t tell him about such a seemingly important thing.

Hanbin wanted to ask _ ‘How long? How long have you been hiding this from me?’, _ but he knew it would only cause him more hurt in the future.

The future, also known as when he would break down in his room in a few minutes.

He could already feel it starting, the ache behind his eyes from trying not to let the tears flow, not now. Not yet. Not in front of Bobby.

“I hope you’re happy together,” Hanbin tried to give Bobby a friendly smile, praying that he didn’t notice the way his voice shook.

He didn’t.

Jealousy was such an ugly thing, but Hanbin didn’t even think it could be classified as that. Jealousy was the feeling when you had something, but were afraid of someone taking that away. Hanbin never had Bobby, not in the way he wanted, so he couldn’t be jealous.

No. He was envious.

He was so disgustingly _ envious. _

Bobby’s eyes practically disappeared when he smiled back, “Thanks, man. Sorry ‘bout not telling you sooner, and that you had to find out like this.”

“It’s—It’s fine,” Hanbin assured, “Just, don’t let it come in the way of the group.”

He needed to summon some of that sternness he used to be known for, if not, Hanbin knew he’d fall apart without it.

And he left without another word.

No one needed to know that he cried so hard he made himself sick that night.

Maybe that night was last night.

And maybe Hanbin didn’t sleep.

  
  


So, that definitely made this ride to the airport even less tolerable than usual.

Hanbin was getting more than a few concerned glances, from everyone but the one person he wanted, but they were all so used to his poor sleeping habits that they knew there was nothing they could do about it.

That was why Hanbin chose to sit next to Bobby, because the other rapper would be none the wiser to Hanbin’s suffering mentality.

Even if he knew it would only hurt him more, seeing Bobby’s phone going off nonstop and the happy looks when he read the messages.

The ride passed with only one more instance of Hanbin thinking _ ‘I can’t fucking do this anymore’, _ when Bobby actually had to close his eyes and place a hand against his heart after reading what was probably an incredibly sappy message.

Hanbin wanted that.

Wanted the chance to make Bobby’s heart flutter like that.

But that would never happen.

  
  


“Hey, everything…okay?”

“Yeah,” Hanbin answered, “Everything is fine, Ju-ne.”

The younger didn’t look too convinced, but Hanbin doubted he sounded like he believed himself. 

He didn’t, if you were wondering.

“I’m just tired,” he continued, even rubbing at his eyes for the effect, “Didn’t get much sleep last night.”

It wasn’t a lie, to be fair. Just not the whole truth.

Junhoe didn’t need that, Junhoe wouldn’t understand.

“Come on, we need to meet with the others,” Junhoe said, reaching out like he wanted to grab Hanbin’s hand but lifting up just before making contact to lightly tap the leader’s cheek.

Hanbin nodded. He couldn’t help how he grabbed the back of Junhoe’s jacket, couldn’t help the way his grip tightened when Junhoe’s shoulders raised.

The younger was obviously uncomfortable with the public display, but Hanbin needed something to ground him before he lost it.

Thankfully, Junhoe didn’t brush him off like he normally would. He let Hanbin cling.

The late-night was already catching up to Hanbin, he was impossibly tired and how no idea how he was even able to stand at this point.

Yeah, he did, actually. Junhoe.

Hanbin would be the first to admit that he and Junhoe had an odd relationship.

They weren’t awkward like Junhoe was with Bobby, but they didn’t have that obvious synergy that Hanbin and Bobby—

Used to have. That Hanbin used to have with Bobby.

No, he shared a quieter connection with Junhoe, one that Hanbin didn’t know how to describe with words alone.

Their relationship wasn’t flashy like Junhoe and Jinhwan’s, it was written between the lines of the poems Junhoe sent him late at night, and the reassuring words they both needed to hear that often fell from Hanbin’s lips.

The flashes of the camera barely registered to him anymore, so many years of this shit desensitized him to the obnoxious lights and lenses always trained on him, but that didn’t mean he was any more comfortable in airports now.

Maybe that was why he liked having Junhoe as a flying buddy.

Hanbin hated airports, and Junhoe hated flying.

They learned how to distract each other without drawing obvious attention to the other’s ‘weakness.’

They were both far too prideful for that.

Hanbin dropped his head against the back of the plastic chair, wincing at the pain radiating through his skull.

He didn’t want to look at Bobby sat across from him, on the damn phone with his girlfriend in the middle of the airport.

Did he not care about who heard the sickeningly sweet love declarations?

(Or who walked in on him?)

When had Bobby fallen in _ love? _ How had Hanbin missed it? 

How hadn’t he noticed the lovestruck look in the rapper’s eyes every time he got a notification? _ How? _

Was he so blinded by the stars in his own eyes? Could he not hear anything over the beating of his own heart whenever Bobby was near?

Hanbin really couldn’t understand.

What happened to the warm eyes that never failed to lock with his sharp glare? The arms that gripped his wrists in attempts to calm him? The voice that talked him through so many low points?

The answer was nothing.

Nothing happened.

Not for Bobby, at least.

While Hanbin was falling for the crooked teeth and strong hands, Bobby was just doing his part to help a dongsaeng. The same way he would for Chanwoo, for Donghyuk.

Hanbin wasn’t _ special. _

He was just—

Hanbin.

“Wake up.”

Hanbin didn’t care enough to tell Junhoe he wasn’t asleep, Junhoe probably knew he wasn’t, anyway.

He could probably just play up the airport stress if anyone asked, but that wouldn’t exactly work after landing. Hanbin would just have to pull himself together enough to get through the fanmeets.

“Hanbin…hyung.”

“What, June?” Hanbin blinked up at the taller male, “Is it time?”

Junhoe nodded, actually reaching out his hand for the leader to grab and hoist himself up with.

Hanbin couldn’t help the way his mind wanted to compare the touch to Bobby’s, and how the older rapper would always yank him up and laugh when he stumbled, but always helped to steady him.

Junhoe’s hands were larger, somehow both softer and rougher than Bobby’s.

Not even thinking about it, Hanbin rubbed his thumb over the back of the vocalist’s hand. The action garnered a look of surprise, but Junhoe let him continue.

Not that Hanbin saw it, not with the way he kept his gaze trained on his sneakers. Hanbin knew if he looked up, he would meet the eyes of countless others, but he didn’t want that.

Didn’t want the inquisitive eyes of the fans, no matter how dear they were to him, the curious stares made him want to hide away. 

The glares he received from older women any time he so much as _ touched _one of the others. 

It was one of the biggest reasons Bobby started to pull away, especially in public, too affected by the social stigma surrounding it.

How could Hanbin ever hope to tell Bobby about his feelings when he couldn’t even feel comfortable sharing his preferences?

He wished he could say he had enough faith that Bobby wouldn’t care, but then each and every moment Bobby had ever recoiled from his touch would play back in his mind. Like it was taunting him. 

_ This is what you can never have. _

Hanbin would rather Bobby like him for what he’s not, than hate him if he ever found out. 

And at that moment, when they’re all lined up in the queue and their managers’ looks finally register, Bobby hangs up on his girlfriend.

But not without Hanbin hearing the parting words.

“Uh-huh, yeah,” he laughed, “I know, I know, baby. I’ll see you when I get back, it’s only a few weeks.”

Hanbin rolled his eyes at the muffled, higher voice that came through the speaker.

“And think about how good I’ll make you feel when I see you again,” Bobby’s voice dropped impossibly low.

Hanbin shivered.

He felt sick.

  
  
  


✯

  
  
  


“I know what it’s like.”

“W-What?” Hanbin turned to look at Junhoe, eyes stuck on the paper in front of the younger.

He wasn’t trying to read it.

Okay, he was.

“I said I know what it’s like,” Junhoe repeated, pausing to write down another line, “It sucks.”

Hanbin felt his shoulders tense, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Junhoe snorted at him, “You do know.”

“Okay,” he relented, “How would you know?”

“How would I know, what?”

That actually managed to put a smile on Hanbin’s face, and he shook his head at the younger’s antics, “Cut it out. Just, humor me.”

“It’s not fun watching your best friend fall in love.”

Sharp eyes raised, just for a second, just to lift a dark eyebrow at Hanbin before falling to the paper once more.

Hanbin spluttered in surprise, “I—I don’t know what—”

“You do know,” Junhoe repeated, _ again, _“You know what it’s like.”

He was getting sick of the cryptic looks and even more cryptic messages.

But then Junhoe gave him a lazy expression, as if to say _ ‘Everyone knows.’ _

“It’s—It’s more than that,” Hanbin started, “It’s…”

He didn’t want to talk about it, not to anyone. Not to Junhoe. Not on a fucking _ airplane. _

Junhoe grinned like he won something, offering Hanbin another raise of his eyebrow, “Complicated?” He finished.

“Yeah, complicated.”

They sat in a moment of silence, Junhoe went back to his poem and Hanbin went back to overanalyzing their conversation.

Which wasn’t right. Conversations with Junhoe were supposed to be _ easy. _

Hanbin was starting to feel a little panicked, a little angry.

“What…What did you mean?”

Junhoe looked like he hadn’t expected Hanbin to say anything more. Like he expected Hanbin to shove away the words, out of his mind.

“Exactly what I said,” Junhoe replied, voice clipped, “There’s no fun in watching your best friend fall for someone else.” 

“Someone else?”

“What?”

Hanbin started wringing his hands, “You said—You said fall for someone _ else,” _ he rushed out, not knowing why he was so nervous now. 

“Hmm,” Junhoe just hummed, “I guess I did.”

_ “So?” _ Hanbin asked after another short pause, “What did you mean?”

Junhoe looked like he was debating more mind games, but sighed and ultimately settled on just answering, “Like you said, it’s complicated.”

Hanbin wanted to wring his neck, but the tone of Junhoe’s voice made him pause. 

And really think. 

“Jinhwan.”

“Bingo.”

“Oh,” Hanbin lamely offered, going back to harshly rubbing his thumb over the back of the opposite hand. 

It…It made sense, he supposed. 

Unlike Bobby, whom Hanbin _ knew _ to be straight, Jinhwan was a little more…flexible. 

He wasn’t all that interested in gender. 

But he was even less interested in commitment. 

Maybe Junhoe did know, maybe Junhoe even had it a little worse, if he really did like Jinhwan like that. With the teasing touches and sly grins the eldest was more than happy to send Junhoe’s way. Short fingers trailing over bare skin, lingering. 

“He’s seeing someone.”

_ Oh. _

Hanbin was stupefied. Jinhwan—In a relationship?

That spark of betrayal was back, hurt that the two people he always thought had his back just…didn’t feel the need to share something like that with him. 

Was he really that unapproachable? That his best friends weren’t comfortable with sharing such an important part of their lives. 

Junhoe gave him a dry chuckle, “Don’t look so distraught. No one was supposed to know, Jinhwan just let it slip while we were drinking. I don’t even know the gender.”

“Bobby has a girlfriend,” Hanbin blurted. 

“I know.”

“And I walked in on them while they were having sex.”

That actually made Junhoe put the pad of paper down, offering Hanbin a sympathetic cringe. 

“Yesterday,” he continued.

“Oh, fuck,” Junhoe’s face contorted into a full cringe, “That really sucks.”

All Hanbin could really do was nod, face blank. 

“Is that why you look like shit today?”

“Y-Yeah. I—”

Hanbin winced as his voice cracked, and he raised a hand up to wipe at his eyes, quickly rubbing away any moisture before it could fall. 

He scrunched his nose up from the thought of crying in front of Junhoe, which would be an all-new low for him. 

Junhoe sighed, “I’m not trying to sound insensitive, I just want to know.”

“It’s—It’s just still…fresh.”

He could still see it. 

He could still see the muscles of Bobby’s back flexing in the dim light of his room. 

Hanbin had only been in there for _ seconds, _but it was enough to sear the image into his mind. 

The way Bobby was hovered over her, body completely encasing the smaller one in a protective cover. 

Junhoe let a heavy hand fall to rest on Hanbin’s thigh, “Yeah, that’s understandable.”

Soon all Hanbin could really focus on was the light drag of Junhoe’s fingers over his thigh, and how much surface area was covered by it. 

“I told you, I get it,” Junhoe repeated, “I might be able to help take your mind off of it. Off of him.”

His voice had dropped. The low tone forced a single chill to run up Hanbin’s spin. 

What happened to the loud, dorky Junhoe he knew?

Well, no. 

He knew this side too, he just wasn’t familiar. 

Hanbin felt almost at ease with this Junhoe, but at the same time, he felt lost. 

It felt like Junhoe was able to see through him. Like Hanbin was little more than a piece of glass, but the cracks that spanned his surface did little to hide themselves. 

Was he the only one that got to see this side of the younger male? The solemn, calm Junhoe that acted like he knew everything? Like he could uncover everything you wanted to keep hidden. 

“Yeah?” Hanbin breathed out, “How do you plan on doing that?”

“I can show you better than I can tell you.”

The hand never left his thigh, the touch was almost scorching but Hanbin found comfort in the warmth. 

Never had he looked at Junhoe and thought, _ I want to have sex with you. _

Until now.

Bobby and Junhoe were so similar, but so different.

Both had manly features, but Bobby was a rugged sort of handsome that was vastly different from Junhoe’s sharp, clean-cut look.

Hanbin had to remind himself that he was in public, on a fucking _ plane, _ and thinking about his younger bandmate in a whole new way.

“Junhoe…”

Suddenly, the plan hit a bit of turbulence and rattled, making Junhoe’s grip on his leg tighten, fingers digging in and Hanbin couldn’t help the small moan that slipped out. 

He slapped a hand over his mouth, eyes darting to make sure no one had heard but he paused when he noticed Junhoe was staring back. 

Their eyes met, and something changed. 

Hanbin couldn’t quite point out _ what, _not at that moment, but the air suddenly felt heavy. Thick. 

The next breath escaped his lips in the form of a breathy laugh, incredulous in reception to the look Junhoe was giving him. 

“So…” Junhoe started, “Do you wanna…come to my room…tonight?”

“Yeah, okay,” Hanbin shyly grinned.

Was this happening? This was an invitation for a night of mistakes, but Hanbin was sick and tired of kicking his own feelings away for the sake of everyone else.

He wanted to be selfish, for once, and if that meant sleeping with Junhoe to take his mind off of Bobby, so be it.

And then Hanbin’s smile was interrupted with a yawn, eyes watering for a different reason this time as Junhoe gave him another quiet laugh. 

“You should try to rest for a bit,” he said, “We’ve got a long day ahead of us.”

Hanbin let his head fall against Junhoe’s shoulder. 

The angle was different than when he did it with Bobby, but actually more comfortable. 

“G’nigh’, Ju-ne,” Hanbin mumbled.

  
  
  


“Hey, wake up,” Junhoe nudged him awake for the second time, “We’re here.”

Hanbin lifted his head to groggily look at Junhoe, “Hi,” he mumbled.

“Hi.”

The next few minutes were a blur, Hanbin was still mostly asleep as they landed, and basically clung to Junhoe and Donghyuk to drag him around.

When he was actually awake enough to be aware of his surroundings, it was just as they loaded into the vans on their way to the hotel.

Hanbin ended up getting shoved into one with the managers, along with Bobby and Chanwoo, but he was still too out of it to complain when Chanwoo claimed the last middle row seat, leaving Hanbin to fall into the back after Bobby.

“I’m so happy that you know,” Bobby nudged at Hanbin’s shoulder with his own, making the younger’s head hang to the side, too tired to hold it up.

“Know what?” He mumbled.

“About me and Eui,” Bobby clarified, “I wanted to tell you _ so bad,” _ he exclaimed, grabbing his phone to pull up pictures, “And I can’t wait for you two to meet.”

Hanbin wanted to push the phone away from his face, tell Bobby he didn’t want to see her when he saw enough last night. More than he ever wanted. 

“She’s—God, she’s gorgeous.” Bobby pulled up a picture of her sleeping, cheek smushed against Bobby’s shoulder and dark brown hair fanning over her face, “She knows French, too. I never thought I’d be so into that, but _ fuck, _ it’s so sexy.”

Hanbin only nodded.

This wasn’t what he needed, not now.

“She’s got a great voice.”

Shut up.

“And a dog. A little pomeranian.”

Shut up.

“My parents _ adore _her.”

_ Shut up. _

“I can’t wait to meet hers,” Bobby sounded so fucking _ in love, _ “We’re planning a trip to Paris where I can see them, but—”

“Bobby?” Hanbin cut him off.

Bobby blinked at him in surprise, “Yeah?”

“I’m not feeling so well,” Hanbin smiled, but he was sure it was more of a grimace, “I’m gonna try to go back to sleep. Wake me up when we get there?”

“Oh, of course.”

Except Bobby wasn’t the one to shake him awake.

The manager was.

“C’mon, kid. You’re the last one and we gotta go.”

Hanbin looked around to find the van emptied out, Bobby’s jacket thrown over him as a makeshift blanket.

“Chanwoo got your carry-on. It’s probably in your room.”

“Right,” Hanbin mumbled.

He pulled Bobby’s jacket on, nearly gagging at the slight perfume lingering on it but he didn’t want to take it off. 

It was surprising, seeing this specific one. It was a jacket that Bobby had gotten years ago, just after debut.

It was a jacket that Hanbin used to steal frequently.

Stepping out of the van was like a slap to the face, but it was almost nice feeling something other than the ache in his chest.

It was cold, Hanbin blew a breath out just to see if it would be visible but the small cloud only lingered for a second before moving on.

He should get inside.

Maybe he’d take a walk later.

  
  


Later ended up being much sooner than he thought.

He was barely up in his room for 10 minutes before he started to feel like he was suffocating. Barely another minute passed before he was out the door, bundled in Bobby’s jacket with only a beanie and mask to conceal his identity.

In that short span of time, he had found out from Chanwoo (meaning the groupchat Hanbin had muted) that Jinhwan dragged Junhoe out for drinks, and Bobby was going to stay in to talk to Eui to let her know he landed safely.

And then Chanwoo bid him little more than a farewell before heading out to the shops with Yunhyeong.

Leaving him all alone.

Hanbin had no answers to the questions running through his head, he stopped being able to make sense of his feelings years ago.

He just wanted to be enough for someone. Was that too much to ask for? Did that make him selfish?

Maybe.

The lights started to blend together in the window, or maybe it was the tears beginning to collect in his eyes, he didn’t know anymore.

He just needed to get out of there.

So he left.

_ It was more than just a neon weekend _

He knew enough Japanese to get by on his own, but it was like all recollection of it was gone. Street signs looked like code, flashing neon signs were only that. No recognizable symbols to him.

It was all a blur.

Hanbin turned back around to see how far he had made it from the hotel, but it was barely more than an obscure fixture in the distance.

He couldn’t even try to guess which window was his room.

Not when they all looked the fucking same.

_ Life slipping through the third floor, curtain _

_ Spreading out like the morning news _

_ From the day before _

He always forgot how beautiful Kobe was at night.

Japan wasn’t really Hanbin’s place, not like it was for Junhoe and Jinhwan, he just didn’t have the same connection to it.

Bobby used to drag him around, trying to see who could get themselves into the most embarrassing situation with their mediocre language skills.

Keyword. _ Used to. _

Now Bobby was more interested in late-night calls with his girlfriend.

Would they do more than just talk? Would Bobby end up panting, chest heaving, by the end of it?

Would they fall asleep together? Drifting off to the sound of the other person’s voice?

The thought made him feel cold.

Or maybe he was just cold.

Maybe he was an idiot.

He was definitely an idiot.

  
  
  


_ Falling fast, breathing slow _

He only tore his eyes away from the water when his phone started ringing.

When had he even made it to the water? He was cold, dizzy. 

His hands were almost too numb to pull his phone out of his pocket, but he somehow managed to get it before the noise stopped.

“H-H-Hel-l-lo?”

Oh.

He couldn’t feel his mouth.

He couldn’t feel most of his body.

How long had he been out?

_ “Hanbin? Where are you?” _

“J-J-Ju-ne-e?”

Wow, breathing stung.

_ “I texted you. I said I was leaving soon but you never answered.” _

Junhoe sounded worried. Junhoe never sounded worried, not for him. 

Should Hanbin be worried?

_ “Where are you? I’m coming to get you.” _

He couldn’t read the signs.

_ “Hanbin? Where are you?” _

Hanbin was curled in on himself on the docks, literal feet away from the water.

If he just leaned forward—

That’d be it.

_ Time is up, the end is just a dream _

_ “Hanbin!” _

_ Just a dream _

Right, Junhoe.

Panicked breaths echoed in his ear.

Was Junhoe running?

_ “Was that a horn? Hanbin, are you at the waterfront? Are you on the docks?” _

Yeah, yeah. That made sense. 

Hanbin nodded, but then he realized Junhoe couldn’t actually see him and he tried to hum.

_ “You’re on the docks? The main port?” _

Another hum.

_ “Okay, Hanbin. I’ll be there soon. ’Can you stay on the call with me?” _

Hanbin’s next hum ended up coming out closer to a whimper, “T-T-Tir-ed-d.”

His jaw ached with how hard his teeth were chattering, shivering in the dark with nothing but the reflection of the moon and lights of the town in the water. 

It was cold. 

_ “Hanbin, listen to me. I’m not that far away—” _

Junhoe’s next words were muffled Japanese that Hanbin couldn’t begin to try to understand. He hoped he didn’t have to try. He couldn’t. 

_ “I’m in a cab, I’ll be there soon, okay? Hey? Han—Hyung. Are you still there?” _

“Mhm-m-m.”

_ “Okay, good. Sit tight, don’t go anywhere.” _

Hanbin wanted to laugh, where could he possibly go?

His eyes felt heavy. He should have stayed home to nap. 

Napping sounded wonderful. 

He wanted to curl up with Bobby. He was basically a human furnace, anyway.

Hanbin missed that warmth.

_ I woke up in Japan _

Hanbin missed a lot of things about Bobby.

But losing that friendship was his biggest regret.

_ I'm feeling low, I'm feeling lonely _

Even if it was his fault.

_ And the best I ever had _

Always running from his problems.

_ It was more than half empty _

He wanted to close his eyes, but after blinking a few times, Hanbin realized they _ had _ been closed. So he let them slip shut once more as he tried to disconnect from reality.

The phone slipped out of his hands but it didn’t matter too much to him, the voice coming out of it hasn’t been anything more than indiscernible babbling for some time now. 

How long had he been on his own? 

Why was he always alone?

Why was he always so _ tired? _

He wanted to sleep. Preferably someplace warm.

With someone.

Anyone.

“Hanbin!”

_ Anyone_.

  
He was so tired of being alone. 

“Hey, hey, hey. Oh, god, hey. _ Hanbin.” _

Strong arms lifted him up and Hanbin wanted to cry out at how fucking _ warm _ they were but he couldn’t muster up the energy to do more than give a low groan.

“Hey. C’mon, man. Wake up, I—I said not to fall asleep.”

Shaky voice. Junhoe?

Junhoe.

  
  
  


Junhoe hefted him up even farther, arms curling under Hanbin’s knees and shoulders before stumbling back to the taxi.

He had looked up signs of hypothermia on the way, and he never thought he’d be so happy to see Hanbin shaking as hard as he was.

Shivering was good, it meant his body was still trying to produce heat.

Junhoe hopped back into the cab, still cradling Hanbin in his arms. He was thankful he left the door open, if only a bit apologetic to the driver.

He blurted out the name of their hotel, even if he had to repeat it again in Japanese.

The driver didn’t seem any the wiser to who, exactly, was in the back of his taxi, thank god, and Junhoe pulled Hanbin’s mask down just enough to uncover his nose to check his breathing.

It was shallow, but steady enough that Junhoe didn’t think a hospital trip was necessary.

Or, at least, he hoped it wasn’t.

Hanbin’s lips were tinged a soft blue, Junhoe wanted to cover them back up but didn’t want to make breathing any harder than he imagined it was.

Ignoring the fact that he had Hanbin still draped over his lap, Junhoe tucked the leader’s face into his neck. He winced at the touch of Hanbin’s frozen nose against his skin, but only grabbed the even-colder hands in his own to try and rub some warmth back in.

He knew Hanbin could be stupid, but this was out-right idiotic.

What the hell was Hanbin _ thinking? _

How the fuck was he meant to get him up to his room?

“Hey,” he softly called, trying to avoid saying Hanbin’s name in the presence of the middle-aged man, “C’mon, you stupid monkey.”

Hanbin gave another low groan before it quickly cut into a whimper, “-Ne? W-Wh-a-a’sup-p-p?”

_ Fuckfuckfuck _was basically the only thing running through Junhoe’s mind at this point, but he knew he’d have to get Hanbin as coherent as he could. 

_ Fuck, _he thought one more time. He wasn’t equipped to handle this shit, he was the one meant to do the dumb stuff. 

But Junhoe understood why Hanbin did it. He really did. 

Not wasting another second, Junhoe peeled Hanbin’s (Bobby’s?) jacket away from the other male before quickly stripping off his own sweater to pull it over Hanbin’s head. 

Hanbin practically threw himself back at Junhoe, trying to press as close to the warmth as he could. He was shaking like _ crazy _in Junhoe’s arms, teeth chattering in his ear but at least he was aware.

“Han—Hey, are you okay?”

Hanbin gave another small whimper, “C-Co-old-d.”

“Well, yeah,” Junhoe mumbled, “No shit. That’s what happens when you walk around for three hours in almost zero degree weather.”

That pulled a tiny chuckle from the rapper.

Junhoe rubbed a hand over Hanbin’s back to try and create some warmth from the friction, “You’re okay though?” He asked again, “You’re going to be okay?”

Hanbin nodded against his neck, sliding his hands up and under Junhoe’s shirt.

_ “Shit,” _ Junhoe hissed.

They were pulling into the hotel when Junhoe realized he should probably take his sweater back, but he doubted he was getting that thing back anytime soon.

So, rather, he decided he could stick out the 15 seconds it would take to get into the hotel. Hanbin could keep the damn sweater.

Junhoe also tried to wrap the jacket Hanbin had been wearing (definitely Bobby’s…) back around the leader, but it was hard when Hanbin wouldn’t remove his freezing hands from under Junhoe’s shirt.

“Let me go, please,” Junhoe sighed, “Or are you forgetting who is supposed to be the hyung here?”

“D-D-Don’t-t wan-n-na.”

Junhoe sighed. 

He forced Hanbin’s hands away from where they were pressed against his stomach to manhandle the rapper into the jacket, ignoring Hanbin’s grumbles of protest.

The driver alerted Junhoe that they were parked—as if he hadn’t noticed—and turned around to collect the total.

Maybe he panicked a bit, but Junhoe hurried to shove the money (probably way too much) into the man’s hand so he could get them out as fast as possible.

This becoming public was the last thing he needed.

“C’mooon,” Junhoe grunted as he hefted Hanbin out, struggling not to call the leader by his name but knowing it wasn’t worth the risk.

He ended up half dragging a mostly limp and still shivering Hanbin back into the cold, just for the few seconds it took to reach the doors to the lobby, all the while trying to avoid any and all hotel personnel.

Hanbin was acting like a drowned kitten, still trying to leech off of Junhoe’s warmth with a complete disregard of anyone seeing.

“When I asked if you wanted to come to my room tonight, this wasn’t exactly what I meant,” Junhoe grumbled, making Hanbin give a shaky giggle, “Glad you find this funny.”

“Sorry,” Hanbin shivered, mood dampening considerably even as he snuggled closer to the younger.

Junhoe huffed, “Whatever.”

He managed to get them to their floor without too many problems, but one soon arose just as Junhoe was trying to get his key-card.

“Hanbin, dude, if you want warmth, you gotta let me go.”

Hanbin stubbornly shook his head, pushing closer to Junhoe’s side as the vocalist continued to struggle, “Warm.”

“Sometimes I swear you—”

“Yo.”

Junhoe turned his head slightly at the sound of the door behind him opening, “Hey,” was all he offered. He felt Hanbin immediately tense up in front of him, against him.

“Is that Hanbin?” Bobby questioned, “What happened?” The rapper shoved his way between Junhoe and the door to pull Hanbin away, “What happened?” He repeated, “You’re shaking like fuckin’ crazy, man.”

Hanbin shook his head, trying to get away but at the same time wanting to plaster himself against Bobby’s chest.

Still shivering lightly, Hanbin could feel Bobby’s heart beating under his palm. The heat radiating off the elder was almost enough to draw him in but he didn’t know if he could handle it anymore.

The whole reason he had gone out was to get away from Bobby, away from the feelings that always seemed to be trailing after him.

Even if it wasn’t the main thing he was focused on, it was always running in the back of his mind. Everything had some connection to Bobby, and that was fine. It didn’t always hurt. 

Hanbin got to be there for everything, watch Bobby grow as an individual and a performer and it was worth _ every fucking second. _

“What happened?” Bobby repeated for the third time, a little more urgently as he ran a rough hand down Hanbin’s back in an attempt to warm him up faster.

It didn’t always hurt, but when it did, it was like a lingering burn. Spanning the length of his body and hurting at even the slightest touch.

Hanbin tried to open his mouth to answer but immediately clamped his jaw shut again as the shivering picked back up. He suddenly felt like he was freezing, even pressed against Bobby like he was.

No, he wasn’t shivering. Not anymore.

He was just shaking.

But Junhoe was quick on the defense, “Nothing. We just went for a walk and you know how he is.”

“I’m fine,” Hanbin mumbled, unsure if he was directing it at Junhoe or Bobby. Or maybe even himself. He pushed away, two shaky hands on a solid chest as he already began mourning the loss of the warmth but unable to handle the burn. 

Bobby’s door opened again, Donghyuk stepping out to shoot them all a confused look before addressing the eldest of the four, “Bobby-hyung, you realize you left Eui on the call, right? She’s asking where you went, dude.”

Hanbin stiffened.

“You should get back to that,” Junhoe mumbled out, “Wouldn’t want to forget where your priorities lie.”

_ It's enough to let the night let go of me _

He didn’t give Bobby any chance to reply to his clipped words before ushering Hanbin away and through the door, shutting it in the rapper’s face in his urgency to get in.

_ A few steps into the open doorway _

Hanbin was still stood frozen when Junhoe turned back around once he made sure the door was locked. His heart was racing, it felt like it was stuck in his throat, just a _ lump _ that was making it increasingly difficult to breathe around.

Bobby didn’t knock. Didn’t try to argue back.

Hanbin should have known he wouldn’t.

“How about you take a shower?” Junhoe mumbled, grasping at straws for what to do with this situation. 

He’s never seen Hanbin like this.

  
  
“I want you to fuck me.”

“W-What?”

_ Heart pounding, there's a noise complaint _

_ From room 304_

“I—I want you to fuck me. So loud everyone in this fucking place hears it,” Hanbin grit out, shocking Junhoe beyond words, “I want you to make me forget all about him.”

“Hanbin,” Junhoe started, “That’s—Fuck, man. That’s not why—”

“I know. I _ know _ but I don’t care.”

Bobby had probably already forgotten about Hanbin. Had already gone back to his room to call his girlfriend back, likely annoying the shit out of Donghyuk.

Hanbin wanted to forget too. He wanted to be able to feel good about himself.

He wanted someone else to make him feel good.

_ Falling fast, breathing slow _

“This doesn’t have to mean anything.”

_ Time is up, the end is just a dream _

“But what if I want it to?”

_ Just a dream _

“Then we go from there.”

“Okay,” Junhoe mumbled back, “Then we go from there.”

Hanbin swallowed, “I won’t hurt you, and you won’t hurt me. Right?”

He slid his hands up and under Junhoe’s shirt once again, but this time the tremor they brought with them was from something else.

“Right.”

“Are we doing the right thing?”

“Definitely not.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone always touched him like they were searching for his flaws, searching for the places his defense was just that little bit weaker but Junhoe wasn’t like that. Junhoe didn’t even have to search to know where Hanbin’s weak spots were, but rather than trying to break him down, Junhoe did his damndest to keep him together. He smoothed his thumbs over the cracks without care of cutting himself on the broken pieces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well,,,hi?
> 
> this is trash but i rushed it bc i wanted it gone and finally finished so here, bad smut
> 
> I’m not rereading this bc I’m fucking sick of looking at it so soz if it’s really choppy but what the fuck ever

In a complete contrast of their words, clothes were pulled at and discarded. Bobby’s jacket lay forgotten in front of the door, left in a heap from Junhoe tossing it to the side in his haste to rid Hanbin of the article of clothing before stripping off his own shirt.

Junhoe was about to throw the sweater and shirt he had just taken off the elder but the rapper snatched it back before he could. 

Only the sweater.

“I’m still cold,” Hanbin grumbled as he tugged it back on, trying to justify keeping the warmth as close by as possible.

Junhoe only laughed at him, “Skin on skin contact would warm you up faster.”

“Are you insinuating something?” Hanbin joked.

The lump in his throat felt smaller and smaller with each hungry kiss Junhoe pressed against his neck, forcing the rapper’s head back against the wall as he scratched at the taller male’s back and shoulders.

“Junh-ha-_ahhhh—” _

Hanbin gasped at one particularly hard nip at his collarbone. His skin was still tingly from the rapid shift of temperatures, little pinpricks of electricity that were only amplified with Junhoe’s touches.

“Why are we doing this again?” Junhoe asked, panting as he pulled away from where he had Hanbin crowded against the wall.

“I don’t know. It was your idea.”

“Hmm, it was a collaborative effort,” he argued.

“My god. Shut up, June.”

Gone was the rushed feeling of earlier, now Hanbin wanted to feel more of the electrifying touches as he urged Junhoe’s hands to continue on their path.

Trailing fire along his sides, curling around his hips and digging into his skin to leave bruises blurring along the ink of his tattoos.

“You can pick me up, right?” Hanbin asked, breathless.

Junhoe wanted to shoot him a dirty look, of _ course, _ he could pick Hanbin up. Hell, he had earlier when he carried him to the car, but maybe the leader was a little more out of it than he thought.

So, rather than answering, Junhoe lowered his hands and hiked Hanbin’s thighs up around his waist, forcing a noise of shock from the rapper at the sudden elevation as his back was pressed against the wall once again. The sweater barely offering any cushion.

Yeah, someone was going to hear them.

No, Hanbin didn’t give a single fuck. 

“Take me to the bed.”

“Okay, _ hyung,” _ Junhoe mocked him, pushing away from the wall with a grunt as he tried to put Hanbin down on the bed, but the skinny ankles refused to uncross from around his hips.

Hanbin ended up pulling Junhoe down with him, could see the uncertainty swimming in the younger’s eyes as they were left lying face-to-face but he wanted to dive in head-first into the dark pools.

What would it be like to kiss Junhoe? Would Hanbin be the one to take control? Or would he willingly let the singer lead?

One way to find out.

Hanbin pulled Junhoe forward with a hand on the back of his neck, smashing their lips together in a messy and desperate kiss as nails dug in and in and in.

They fought for dominance as a tongue was gracelessly shoved against Junhoe’s own, both pushing and pushing and _ pushing _ until he finally backed down, letting Hanbin have control.

For now.

“I want you to ruin me,” Hanbin panted against the corner of Junhoe’s lips “If we’re going to—to do this, I want to feel it tomorrow. And the next day. I want that to be the only thing I can focus on when we’re flying back.”

Junhoe sharply inhaled. He hadn’t expected Hanbin to be quite so _ mouthy _but now he couldn’t imagine it going any other way. 

“I want bruises covering my hips, I want my ass to still hurt on the plane.” Hanbin tightened his legs, pulling Junhoe forward to press against him. “Distract me,” he pleaded, _ “Please.” _

He just wanted to feel good, he wanted someone to make him feel good.

“Yeah,” Junhoe mumbled, “I can do that.”

Make him feel good.

He just wanted to feel good.

_ “Please,” _ Hanbin breathed out, “I need it. Need this.”

His hands grappled to find purchase in Junhoe’s hair, feeling his fingers catch in the gel-coated strands as teeth knicked his bottom lip.

There was the faint taste of blood as Junhoe traced his tongue over the small cut he made, trying to soothe the pain he felt little remorse for causing.

Somehow, Hanbin managed to reverse their positions, using Junhoe’s weight against him to push him against the mattress before clambering into his lap.

“This okay?” Hanbin asked, rolling his hips against the younger’s and Junhoe can only nod, perhaps far too eagerly before they came together in another slow kiss.

“Perfect.”

It was something Hanbin’s body managed to comprehend before his mind could, the grip of Junhoe’s fingers digging into his thighs. The warmth spreading along the inside of them from the heat sat between.

Junhoe had always been the person to do just enough and never more, but Hanbin was always the overachiever, the one to hit it and hit it until it breaks.

Until he breaks.

Hanbin laid his cards out, confident in whatever hand he was dealt with but Junhoe played his cards close to his chest.

Hanbin gave in spades. Gave until he was left empty-handed and empty-hearted, but maybe Junhoe could let him take for once.

It was the hot breath that tickled his skin, heavy and uneven as Hanbin panted over him. That was what really did Junhoe in, and then a hand was curled around his length through the material of his pants and that was it.

Junhoe’s hips rolled up into Hanbin’s palm before the rapper practically melted in his arms, reacting to the hot palms sliding up under the baggy sweater to knead at his lower back.

“Lay back down,” Junhoe murmured against Hanbin’s jaw, “So I can—”

And again, positions reversed as Hanbin was left panting on his back, chest heaving but so, so warm as Junhoe settled between his legs.

Now Hanbin’s hips were the ones bucking up, pushing forward as Junhoe took advantage of the movement to pull Hanbin’s bottoms down. He didn’t bother letting any embarrassment bleed through before shedding his own.

Leaving him completely naked and Hanbin in just his sweater. Junhoe’s sweater.

And then Junhoe’s mouth was on him.

Almost immediately, Hanbin’s hands reached up past his head to grip the pillow resting under his head as his eyes snapped open and some embarrassingly needy noise slips past his lips.

_ “Please,” _Hanbin whined as Junhoe sucked hard, tracing the flat of his tongue over the head of Hanbin’s cock before he flicked the tip over his slit until the leader was left a whimpering mess, “So good, June, so good,” he babbled, “Please, want you to…Want it…”

His eyes were squeezed shut, chest heavy and rapid as Junhoe sucked a wet bruise onto the inside of his thigh. Hanbin was sure that if he were to look at the younger right then, Junhoe’s eyes would be darkened with mischief.

And right he was, as just seconds later Junhoe pulled back to drag the back of his hand over his lips, away from Hanbin like the tease he was with absolutely no follow through.

Junhoe’s mouth was the first thing Hanbin noticed about the younger, so it was only fair that it was always (still is) a source of much of the dissension between them.

Now, that same mouth was leaving wet, gentle kisses along the length of Hanbin’s thighs as his hands wondered, tracing his hips and trailing up and down and down and up like Hanbin was uncharted territory and all he wanted to do was map him out.

Hanbin would let him.

He would let him do anything he wanted as he just continued to babble and whine because he was already being taken apart with each drag of Junhoe’s fingertips over his skin.

_ “Please.” _

“Please what?” Junhoe asked, barely anything more than hot breath on quivering thighs.

Hanbin’s body reacted on its own accord as a violent shiver rippled through him, “Please,” he begged, “Just—Please, just touch me.”

Something in the way he said those words made Junhoe pull back as he met Hanbin’s pleading eyes, confused, “I am touching you,” he mumbled but didn’t stop doing just that. He continued to drag his nails over Hanbin’s shaking thighs before running up, up under his sweater to trace along the line of his ribcage.

If all Hanbin wanted, _ needed, _ was for Junhoe to touch him, then that’s what he was going to do.

They had always joked that Hanbin was sensitive, relied too much on physical contact and reassurance and now Junhoe was seeing the true extent of it.

Or maybe he wasn’t, maybe he never would see the complete severity but he trusted Hanbin to know his own limits. He did.

So Junhoe was going to touch him, hold him and never let him go as long as Hanbin wanted it.

If Hanbin was physically lonely, then maybe Junhoe was mentally lonely?

He felt like no one really tried to connect with him on anything more than a superficial level. Everyone except Hanbin, maybe. 

Hanbin, who seemed to be the only one that could understand, that could relate to what Junhoe felt.

The one that found it hard to communicate through merely spoken words and instead relied on his music to convey how he felt.

It made things less scary. It made them less intimidating to each other when they knew how to translate the meaning behind the actions. It was why Junhoe sent his songs to Hanbin.

Because he just wanted someone to understand.

Hanbin would.

So Junhoe would try to understand him, would take his time to explore Hanbin’s body even as he didn’t know a damn thing about it except for how much he wanted it.

The leader looked so much softer like this, so much slighter, with only Junhoe’s massive sweater covering all of his tattoos and lean muscle. 

Junhoe was going to make it his mission to learn his body like it could teach him the secrets of the universe.

And Hanbin loved it.

Loved how Junhoe touched him like he was tending to something valuable, something sacred and maybe slightly breakable and Hanbin loved it.

Everyone always touched him like they were searching for his flaws, searching for the places his defense was just that little bit weaker but Junhoe wasn’t like that. Junhoe didn’t even have to search to know where Hanbin’s weak spots were, but rather than trying to break him down, Junhoe did his damndest to keep him together. He smoothed his thumbs over the cracks without care of cutting himself on the broken pieces.

So Hanbin arched into his touch, aching for it in the most primal way and nearly begging, “Please,” he whispered.

Junhoe exhaled, let his fingertips dance along Hanbin’s chest to brush across a pert nipple underneath his sweater. “Impatient,” he mumbled back, grinning at Hanbin’s answering whimper before scraping his teeth over the leader’s neck.

“M’not impatient,” Hanbin gasped, “You’re just the devil.”

“If I’m the devil, then what does that make you?” Junhoe asked.

“I just wanna get fucked, man,” Hanbin complained as he tightened his fingers in Junhoe’s hair before _ scraping _ them down along his back, “But you aren’t fucking doing anything.”

Which made Junhoe give a quiet groan while biting down on Hanbin’s collarbone, passing the hurt between the two of them until they were both left panting with spit-slick lips.

And then there was a moment, with Hanbin’s eyes squeezed shut, where he truly thought that Junhoe wasn’t going to do anything. He readied another whine before, out of nowhere, his legs were pushed up and his eyes snapped open to meet Junhoe’s lust-darkened ones.

“Are you sure about this?” Junhoe asked again, his shit-eatting grin momentarily disappearing to be replaced with a look of uncertainty, “Like, positive?”

_ “Yes,” _ Hanbin croaked, “I’m sure, I’m sure. Please, fuck. Just—Please.”

Junhoe’s only response came in the form of slick fingers sliding over sensitive places and Hanbin had no fucking clue when or where or how the lube appeared but it could have just materialized out of thin air for all he cared.

His lungs worked to drag in a heavy breath as Junhoe barely skimmed his entrance, shocking Hanbin back into his body at the feeling and all he wanted was to feel Junhoe slowly opening him up.

“Keep going,” he groaned out, hips rolling forward in an attempt to get Junhoe to just fucking _ do _ something, “Just—Just go for it, man.”

“Pipe down,” Junhoe grumbled.

Hanbin wanted to grumble back, maybe make it so Junhoe was lying against the bed and sprawled out underneath him. He didn’t care if he was the one fucking or getting fucked, everything was already more than he ever expected to get.

In Junhoe’s dimly-lit hotel room, with nothing but the sound of their own breathing echoing off the sparsely decorated walls, too-early in the night for how dark it was outside.

But that was winter. That was what winter did.

It left the skies dark and the wind icy. It left Hanbin’s fingers numb and brain cloudy and the only thing clear to him was the warmth of Junhoe’s hands on his body, or the lips on his neck.

_ “Hanbin.” _

“What?” He gasped, “What? What, what, _ what? _ For the—For the love of _ God, _ June. Just want—Want you to touch me.”

Junhoe didn’t even bother reminding Hanbin that all he had been doing was touching the elder, and rather he just pressed the pad of his middle finger against Hanbin’s entrance, watching the reaction with nothing less than pure awe, “Okay?”

“Fuck—C-Could’ve knocked before you entered,” Hanbin muttered, but Junhoe was still stuck on the way the rapper’s body responded to his touches. 

The way Hanbin’s toes curled against the sheets, how he clenched and tightened and wiggled around what was barely more than a knuckle pressed flush inside him but he was moaning like Junhoe was already pressing hard on that one spot.

Junhoe moaned out Hanbin’s name like he could taste every damn letter as it slipped past his lips.

(He always imagined Hanbin would taste like sour gummy worms and fruity alcohols that would get him tipsy and drowsy after one can.)

But _ god, _ was reality so much better.

The reality of Hanbin’s quiet moans and pleas and the way his fingers pulled at the sheets before moving to dig into Junhoe’s shoulders as the singer fully pressed a long finger in.

He could tell Hanbin wanted it in a way that was so desperate and messy but unwavering in his desire to just be _ touched _ and Junhoe couldn’t help but feel the need to protect him.

It was crazy. 

How strong he felt the urge to wrap the leader up in his arms and never let him go, even though Hanbin had always been the strongest person Junhoe knew. The strongest pillar in their group.

Another finger in and Hanbin was sure Junhoe’s back would still be bleeding by morning, and Hanbin was entirely to blame for that.

Well, maybe Junhoe was a bit at fault, too, with how he had been teasing.

So now, Hanbin was left mewling around three thick fucking fingers with one of his knees hiked over a broad shoulder, practically bending him in half as Junhoe teased against his prostate.

“Fucking _ finally,” _ Hanbin bitched, “Took you long enough.”

He complained, yeah, but he wanted nothing more than for Junhoe to take his time while breaking him apart.

But then the fingers were gone and Hanbin regretted opening his mouth—could only hear the tearing of foil as he stared up at the ceiling and tried to catch his breath. He had been matching the rhythm with every thrust of Junhoe’s hand but now he had nothing but the younger’s own ragged exhales to follow.

Hanbin whined at the loss of stimulation that came with Junhoe sitting back against his heels, lifting up slightly in an effort to chase that warmth back down before falling back against the mattress with a breathless huff.

He was honestly preparing himself to beg, a throaty plea getting stuck as Junhoe pressed back against him.

“Wa-Wait, wait,” Hanbin gasped out, lifting a hand to halt the taller male’s actions, but instead just causing him to panic.

“What?” Junhoe quickly mumbled, “D-Did you…change your mind?”

“No, no, no. I—I want—” 

Hanbin cut himself off before scrambling to sit up, taking Junhoe’s shoulders in his hands to clamber up into his lap. His legs were already shaking from the exertion so he settled his weight down entirely on the singer’s thighs. 

He was spread, completely bare save the sweater and vulnerable in this position atop Junhoe, “Wanna ride you,” Hanbin finally bit out, “Wanna feel you as deep as possible.”

Junhoe choked at that, face reddening as his eyes widened almost comically with embarrassment, “I—I mean…” He shuddered before whining, _ “Fuck, _ man. You can’t just _ say _ that kind of shit.”

“I can,” Hanbin teased, rocking forward, “I will,” another slow roll, “And I just did. Now, _ fuck me.” _

“Jesus…”

Hanbin lifted up as he took Junhoe’s earlobe into his mouth to pull out a low moan, “C’mon, June-yah. You said you’d show me.”

His mouth drifted down along a sharp jawline, just nipping at the skin as he felt the blunt tip of Junhoe’s cock against his entrance.

“Well…” Hanbin murmured, “I’m waiting.”

And then that was it.

Junhoe’s hands gripped his hips, gently easing Hanbin down to press them flush together as Hanbin breathed out a gasp in his ear.

“This okay?”

“Fuck, ah—June. Perfect, it’s perfect,” Hanbin moaned in response, trying not to wince as fingers dug into the bruises smattering his thighs and waist, not wanting to scare Junhoe off, “So good, you’re so good for me—To me.”

His own cock was tucked under the sweater, precome dampening a patch of the fabric as he continued to let out a series of breathy moans. He wanted Junhoe to touch him, everywhere, but especially there. Where he was hard and aching and longing for more of the gentle caresses trailing his body.

Soon enough, Junhoe was fully inside and Hanbin rolled his hips again just to hear Junhoe’s cut-off whimper at the motion, “You’re the one doing all the work.”

“Next time,” Hanbin panted, fingers tightening their hold on the younger’s shoulders, “You can do everything. And I’ll just lay there.”

Junhoe snorted at any implication of Hanbin willingly giving up control. He had the feeling that he’d have to _ take _it from him.

Sounds like a challenge.

_  
__Next time. _There would be a next time.

“Look at my hands,” Junhoe huffed a laugh as he nodded down toward where their bodies were joined together, “Hyung.”

Hanbin blinked at him, and then seemed to let whatever Junhoe said register as he mumbled, “Don’t call me Hyung when we’re—Oh—” He exhaled, _ “Oh.” _

Junhoe’s hands were rested on his thighs, covering a wide area of the tan skin under the rough palms as he stroked his fingers along them. The words sat heavy on his tongue, the saccharinely sweet _ ‘beautiful’ _ that he wanted nothing more than to breathe out against Hanbin’s lips, but he doesn’t.

Instead, he let his hands do the talking while he preoccupies his mouth with catching Hanbin’s own, one of the leader’s hands coming up to push Junhoe’s hair back and carding slender fingers through the gelled strands.

Sometime during the kiss, his eyes must have slipped shut, only to reopen at the air breathed out as Hanbin pulled back. Pressing his forehead against Junhoe’s hard shoulder, Hanbin gave another circle of his hips in an effort to adjust more to the now-foreign feeling.

Every touch of Junhoe’s skin to his was like a small spark lit under his skin, buzzing as the press of fingerprints linger. Hanbin lifted himself up again, muscles burning but needing to see Junhoe come undone by his doing.

Junhoe shuddered, palms sliding up to rest against Hanbin’s back as the rapper mouthed at his earlobe. “I can’t—I can’t even begin to tell you,” Hanbin breathed, “Just how bad I needed this.”

“You don’t have to.” And he didn’t, because Junhoe understood.

He knew how Hanbin felt but he also knew that Jinhwan hadn’t even crossed his mind once since finding their leader near-frozen on the docks, and that wasn’t something Junhoe understood.

Hanbin was just captivating like that. He commandeered all the attention in the room without even trying. Junhoe wondered how Bobby didn’t fall for him.

Junhoe could see himself loving Hanbin, maybe, but where Hanbin is lithe and wirey, Junhoe pictured softness and delicacy.

But Hanbin was not Jinhwan, and that seems to be exactly what Junhoe needed.

_ “Thank you.” _

Something inside Junhoe seemed to claw up from his chest and into his throat, to the point that he didn’t even know which of them had whispered the words but judging by the look of surprise painted on Hanbin’s eyes, Junhoe guessed it was himself.

He could feel his fingers shaking as he pressed them into the dips at the base of Hanbin’s spine, right where his back arched forward against Junhoe’s torso.

Hanbin’s hands moved from his hair to cup the younger’s face, nuzzling Junhoe’s jaw before pulling him up to press another needy kiss to the corner of his lips.

“I’m going to kiss you,” Junhoe warned, as if they hadn’t been desperately breathing each other in just seconds ago. He dipped down for yet another slow, but still so _ messy, _ kiss.

Hanbin’s breath was stuttery and choked and Junhoe could almost feel his getting caught in turn.

“You’ve always seemed so untouchable to me,” Junhoe admitted, “Unreachable.” 

Hanbin gave him a confused look before squeezing his eyes shut as Junhoe rolled his hips up, “W-What do you mean?”

“Like—” The younger paused to press a kiss against the tattoo on Hanbin’s collarbone, “Like you were never on the same level as us, like you were playing a completely different game from the start. I still feel like I know nothing about you.”

“I lost my virginity when I was 17 with Flower Power by Girls’ Generation playing in the background.”

Junhoe couldn’t help but fall to pieces in disbelieving laughter at the admission, “Oh, my—my _ god.” _

“Yeah?” Hanbin chuckled, “That’s funny? What about this one; I had a pet turtle named Mulgogi that my mom accidentally fed too much and I cried for three days when I came home and found out he died.”

“How—How old were you?”

“Fourteen.”

Junhoe snorted at the image of young-Hanbin crying over his dead turtle, one that he had named _ Fish, _ of all things.

And then he thought about how Hanbin was sharing all of this while they were fucking and it just became so much more outlandish.

Him. And Hanbin. 

“Your turn.”

“My turn?” Junhoe blinked, “Okay…Remember that weekend, during our trainee days, when I went on a date and refused to talk about it?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, my date got sick all over our waiter because she had come absolutely plastered, even though we were both underage at the time. I was so embarrassed that I cringe everytime I pass that restaurant and haven’t gone back in since.”

Hanbin leaned his forehead against Junhoe’s shoulder as he snickered, not wanting Junhoe to make fun of how he scrunched his face up when he laughed, “That’s not even that _ bad,” _ he teased.

Exasperated, Junhoe shook his head and scoffed, shifting Hanbin’s hips with the grip he had on them in an effort to shut him up.

“How about less talking,” he rolled his eyes and rolled his hips and flexed his fingers and dug his thumbs into Hanbin’s thighs to lay him back.

“What are you—?”

“I’m gonna pull out now,” Junhoe warned before doing exactly that, leaving the smaller body to try and curl up as he fisted his hands in the bottom hem of the sweater, “Can I flip you?”

Hanbin, in an attempt to answer, just ended up letting out something that was just barely not a whine as he was moved. He wondered if the rooms around could hear his wailing.

He wondered if Bobby could. Or what he would do, what he would say, if he could.

If he would say anything.

“Shhh,” Junhoe quieted the whines, pressing against Hanbin’s chest with his hand to pull him back into his chest, and then they were moving suddenly. 

He nudged Hanbin under him, pressing the smaller body into the sheets below them. Junhoe was still holding him close, a hand under his back, the other bracketing his head, foreheads touching.

Hanbin’s eyes held a swirl of emotions that Junhoe couldn’t even try to decipher as he melted back into the pillow. Junhoe couldn’t tell if he was shaking, or if Hanbin was the one trembling underneath him.

Maybe they both were, actually.

“June-yah?” Hanbin mumbled, catching the younger’s eyes, “Thank _ you.” _

_ For being my safety. _

“I’m happy it’s you.”

Unsure of how to respond, Junhoe decided to forgo words to press a trail of kisses along Hanbin’s neck, the other boy turning his head to the side with a sigh and a smile.

It’s like there were so many things Junhoe wanted to say but couldn’t find how, or even what. 

So, again, he doesn’t try and instead pressed himself back into Hanbin’s warm heat, muffling a moan into the rapper’s sweater-clad shoulder as Hanbin’s hands go from fisting the taller’s hair to fisted in the sheets.

Hanbin wanted more and Junhoe wanted to give it to him.

Hot breath fell on his skin as Hanbin pressed his lips to the forearm laying there, bracketing his head, as he dug his heels into Junhoe’s back.

“I wanna feel every inch of you,” He mumbled, “So, so good. So good.”

Junhoe exhaled, pulled out.

“Just like that…”

The slick slid of their skin and the rush of heat as Junhoe moved himself forward again, hips flush against the backs of Hanbin’s thighs and throat tight with desire.

Hanbin moaned at the movement, _ “God,” _ and _ “Fuck, yeah,” _ seeming to be the only noises he was capable of making. He lifted a hand up to unconsciously run his thumb over the vocalist’s cheekbones.

Junhoe snapped his hips forward, a few sharp times disrupting the slow pace just enough to catch Hanbin off guard.

He was squeezing his hands in the sheets and his mouth hang slightly open as Junhoe pressed another kiss under his jaw.

“Okay?”

“So good, June-yah,” Hanbin breathed, “So good.”

The sheer passion and heat surrounding their bodies was overwhelming in the best way possible, Junhoe slowed down just enough to keep him from going over the edge. His head dropped against Hanbin’s shoulder and he breathed out a sign against the dewy skin as Hanbin’s fingers found his own.

Hanbin’s heels were digging into his back and fingers nearly breaking his in a death grip, but Junhoe didn’t think he’d want it any other way. The night had not gone how he would have expected, not in the slightest, but the look on Hanbin’s face made it all worth it.

He watched the shadows dance across Hanbin’s chest and up his neck, to the soft curve of his jawline and the high slope of his cheekbones before settling on shiny eyes and wet eyelashes.

A wave of pure adoration surged through Junhoe. This was his leader, his hyung, his _ friend _ and he was trusting Junhoe with a very large portion of himself and that only inspired him to grind down harder, push deeper as Hanbin littered the side of his face and neck with mumbled words and feather-light kisses.

Hanbin could only describe the feeling as _ intoxicating. _

The pure _ high _ clouding his thoughts was intoxicating and addicting as it builds under his skin, waiting to burst out. He didn’t even try to hold back from telling Junhoe how good he was making him feel, how good he looked planted firmly over his own body. To the point where Junhoe practically seemed to be _ glowing _ under the praise, pushing harder, faster.

It was all a haze, the next few minutes, to Hanbin.

It vaguely registered when Junhoe’s nails dug into his wrist, with both of them breathless and worn out, pushing and pulling in sync with their connection.

Bursts of white took over his vision, overwhelming his senses and all he could feel was Junhoe, in him, on him.

  
  


Junhoe only allowed himself a few minutes to gather himself before finding the strength to pull out and disguard the condom in the trash before snagging a handful of tissues to clean up Hanbin’s mess.

“June-yah,” Hanbin mumbled, “Com’ere.”

The words were followed by a pair of graby-hands in his direction, and _ of course _ Hanbin would be a cuddler after sex. Junhoe shouldn’t have expected anything else.

Hanbin tackled Junhoe with a light giggle and teeth nipping at his neck. He managed to roll them back over to settle himself over Junhoe’s chest before grumbling.

“You’re all sweaty.”

Junhoe snorted, “And how is that my fault? You always complain about being cold, but you’re like a damn furnace.”

“I _ am _ cold,” Hanbin argued back, “I’m just leeching off of your warmth. You’re the walking space heater.”

Junhoe wiggled his body in retaliation, the sole goal being to gross Hanbin out by pressing his sweat-damp skin against the elder’s. 

Finally, everything settled again and Hanbin let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. And then the breath caught, but he held it for a few seconds before trying for a second time.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I got all—” Hanbin made a huffing noise as he tried to piece together his thoughts, “Worked up, I guess,” He felt the need to apologize for that embarrassing display, but only after they had managed to wiggle underneath the covers and Junhoe has Hanbin pressed against his side and tucked against him.

His ankle hooked around Junhoe’s, cold feet pressed against his calf and forehead tilted into his shoulder.

“M’sorry you had to rescue me like a damn kid,” he continued to apologize, “When I’m supposed to be the hyung, the leader.”

“Why?”

“Huh? Why, what?”

“Why does it always come down to that?” Junhoe asked, “You’re a few months older than me. So what? You’re our leader, yeah, but that’s when we’re working. Before anything else, we’re friends, right?”

It wasn’t fair. Hanbin was never fair on himself and Junhoe hated it.

“When it’s just the two of us, like this, can’t we just be equals?”

Hanbin breathed out. The room smelled like sex, Junhoe smelled like whiskey and Hanbin, and Hanbin smelled like Junhoe and saltwater.

“Okay, June-yah. Equals.”

  
  
  


“Does this mean I don’t have to call you _ ‘hyung’ _ anymore?”

“Ya!”

* * *

The next morning, Hanbin woke up shivering with an ache in his back and thighs and head, feeling his breath rattle around in his chest following the rhythm of the AC unit that was, for some reason, on. 

“June-yah,” he whined, “Turn it offfff. S’cold.”

Except he was met with silence. 

“Junhoe?”

He turned around but was met with no snoring doofus, no sharp eyes and messy bed-head and snarky comments about his breath. 

He woke up alone. 

_ Dammit. _

Hanbin scrubbed a hand down his face. How had he managed to ruin another situation? Another relationship? 

He felt worn down, exhausted beyond belief and sore for all the wrong reasons. Mind running, running, running in circles and he just didn’t have the energy to keep up, not anymore.

It hadn’t been easy, before last night, because nothing was ever easy in life. But before yesterday Hanbin had been fine—yeah, he was lonely—but _ fine. _

He knew what he was to Bobby. He was a friend, a teammate, a leader. That was it, that was all.

A brother.

But Hanbin didn’t know what he was to Junhoe, what he could be, or even what he wanted to be. He didn’t know, he never knew.

He’d been fine.

When he wasn’t thinking about impressing pretty boys or aching so fucking _ badly _ for someone to just _ touch him. _ For someone to touch him and hold him and just _ love him _ for one god damned moment.

And Junhoe had given that to him. He’d taken Hanbin into his arms and cradled him against a broad chest, he’d kept Hanbin together with sturdy arms and strong hands before taking him apart in a way he’d never known he needed.

He let himself fall back into the cocoon of blankets with a sigh. Hopefully this wouldn’t affect the group too much. 

Hanbin knew he was making a mistake last night, but he hadn’t thought it would bite him in the ass so early. 

And then the door clicked open. 

“Oh, shit.”

Something thudded against the carpet, Junhoe’s quiet curse making Hanbin turn back around with a hope that the decisions made in the heat of the moment wouldn’t break them. Break him. 

“June?”

“Fucking vending machines. Where do they get off thinking they can make me drop 4,000 won on a tiny bag of peanuts?”

Hanbin didn’t mind the lack of acknowledgement to his call, just grinned at the sight of the younger boy, “You came back.”

“Well, yeah,” Junhoe cocked an eyebrow, “Course I came back. It’s my room?”

“Oh, right.”

The singer just raised his second eyebrow in shock, like he couldn’t possibly fathom why Hanbin wouldn’t think he was returning before the answer seemed to come to him.

His face softened at the sight of Hanbin, eyes slightly unfocused and still wearing that damn sweater. Except it was now stretched over a bronze shoulder, likely from their actions of the night prior and he silently mourned the loss of yet another article of clothing to the damn leader.

“Scoot.”

“Hey—Watch it! Your knee is digging into my fucking crotch.”

“Well, maybe you should fuckin’ move when I ask,” Junhoe grumbled as he pushed the smaller body to the other side of the bed. “I am capable of throwing your ass around, you know.”

“Oh, I know,” Hanbin mumbled, “I think you bruised my back. And ass.”

Junhoe’s snort was cut off as Hanbin landed a slap against his stomach, “I’m pretty sure you _ asked _me to leave bruises, several times.”

Again, they seemed to settle back into the early-morning rhythm that felt so right, even with the air of uncertainty still clouding in the corners of their minds.

“But how are you really feeling? I did kind of slam you against the wall at one point…”

“Only because I asked you to,” Hanbin argued, pulling away and settling a few inches away. Creating space so he wasn’t looking directly into that searching gaze. He didn’t like hearing Junhoe sound so _ lost. _ “And I’m…I’m…”

_ Fine. _ The word was resting on the tip of his tongue but it wasn’t quite true, now was it? No, it wasn’t and Hanbin couldn’t bring himself to tell even that small of a lie to Junhoe.

This wasn’t—He wasn’t the _ hyung _ in this situation, right? 

He can let himself just be…himself, in front of Junhoe.

As _ equals. _

“Tired,” Hanbin finally finished, still half caught in the haze of sleep and dizzy from the circles his mind had been running in, “Woke up alone, wondered where you went.”

Junhoe’s eyes softened, “I wouldn’t just leave.”

“I know that,” Hanbin huffed out in defense but Junhoe only continued to stare from his position propped up against the pillows.

“Do you?”

Silence. Shoulders raised and eyes fell to cream sheets.

“What reason would I have to leave?” Junhoe quietly asked. He expected Hanbin to answer something about how Junhoe was too self-centered to care, or too thoughtless but instead the rapper only blew out a shaky breath and hugged his knees to his chest as the sheets pooled around him.

“What reason do you have to stay?” _When I’m not the one you love?_ _Nor you to me?_

“Hanbin—”

But Junhoe was cut off with another kiss, not nearly as harsh as last night but just as desperate as Hanbin practically jumped him. It’s the fast, almost kitten-licks that Hanbin presses into his mouth that cause him to groan out, hands gripping hips and pushing down on newly formed bruises.

Hanbin pulled back to catch his breath, far too gone for just waking up as he felt that familiar pressure in his chest grow and grow as he panted against the younger’s shoulder.

He didn’t love Junhoe, but he was drunk off the feeling of being desirable. He wanted to be needed and needed to be wanted in the most desperate way, it was almost pitiful.

“Hanbin,” Junhoe murmured his name like a prayer, and maybe—just _ maybe— _Hanbin wasn’t the only one that needed this, “Tell me what to do.”

“Touch me.”

Maybe the words came out more like a sob than anything else, maybe Hanbin’s fingers were gripping Junhoe’s shirt so tight they were beginning to cramp.

There were no fireworks that came with the next kiss, no overwhelming feelings of love as fingers laced with Hanbin’s own but he felt _ safe. _ Secure in a way that he has never felt before and he was terrified of losing that now.

“Just…Touch you?” Junhoe asked, untangling their hands to run the pads of his fingers along Hanbin’s cheek before simply cupping his jaw. His hand was big enough that he could continue to rub his thumb over a high cheekbone as his fingers slid along the short hairs at the back of the leader’s head, “Like this?”

Hanbin closed his eyes, breath catching as he pushed into the warm palm. He nodded. Breathed out. 

The feeling of Junhoe’s nails left pinpricks along his scalp before he shivered, nodding again. “Yeah,” he whispered, eyes closing as Junhoe ran a long-fingered hand down his neck to press their lips together. 

Breathed in. Breathed out.

And Hanbin couldn’t help it, hated himself for it but he felt his eyes start to water before he could do anything to stop it.

Was that all it took for Hanbin’s walls to come crumbling down? A mere press of lips against his own and a sturdy hand held at the nape of his neck?

When Junhoe pulled away to lick his lips and just breathe, breathe, breathe, his eyes widened almost comically at the sight of the (most-likely) pitiful look of Hanbin’s watery eyes.

“What’s wrong?” He rushed, voice panicked, “Are you good, man?”

Hanbin shook his head before roughly scrubbing at eyes, “Fuck, sorry—M’sorry.”

What was fuck was he crying for?

“Sorry. Sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” Junhoe cut off his self-deprecating murmuring, “Hanbin, hey. It’s okay.”

He pulled the smaller body flush against his own, Hanbin grasping at the back of his shirt as he tries to bury himself in Junhoe’s neck.

The position was so reminiscent of the night before but the emotions bubbling in Hanbin’s chest were so drastically different.

There was nothing Hanbin could think of doing when Junhoe started to make soothing noises as he held him even tighter. Gentle rocking, side-to-side before pressing a kiss to the leader’s temple and it was so much more intimate than anything the night before.

Junhoe made the touches feel as easy as breathing, simple.

Like Hanbin wasn’t breaking apart in his arms.

Another whispered apology, Junhoe’s arms tightened.

Hanbin didn’t know what was considered okay.

Well. None of it. None of it was okay.

So what did it matter what Hanbin did anymore?

Each touch was gentle, unsure but secure as Junhoe gently pulled Hanbin’s head back to frame his face in large hands and that was all it took for the tears to finally spill over, trailing warm lines between Junhoe’s fingers.

He didn’t want Junhoe to let him go, too scared of falling apart without the warm arms holding him together.

Each gentle press of lips against his forehead was a quiet assurance, like he was allowing Hanbin to touch more, to want more and _ god, _ did he want more.

Was that all it took to break him down? 

“You make me—” Junhoe started, holding Hanbin even tighter, “You make me feel…”

It wasn’t love. God, no, that would be ridiculous, but he held Hanbin in his arms and felt like he was needed. 

“Safe?” Hanbin asked.

“Yeah. Safe.”

  
  


“It feels different now.”

“What does?”

“Waking up in Japan.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not alone anymore.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


“Is that…Is that a hickey?!”

“Shhhh, Donghyuk, shut _ up!” _

“No! That’s a hickey! That’s—“

“You’re a menace, you know tha—Ew! Did you just fucking lick me?!”

  
  


“So…who’s the unlucky sucker?”

“None of your business.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ngl, I haven’t really been feeling the fandom recently, and I apologize for how absent I’ve been (both on twitter and here) but it’s hard trying to keep up with something that feels like it lost its spark, yenno?
> 
> well, whatever 
> 
> pls i appreciate all comments and kudos

**Author's Note:**

> surprise lol smut in the second chapter ha
> 
> Follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/MVgetanAttitude)
> 
> don't forget to leave comments nd kudos  
yell at me lol


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